


Toybox

by ChocoChipBiscuit



Series: Research is its own reward [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Anal Play, Cunnilingus, Dildos, Double Penetration, F/F, Laughter During Sex, Light Bondage, Masturbation, Mild Kink, Oral Sex, Safeword Use, Safewords, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 04:46:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6105346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoChipBiscuit/pseuds/ChocoChipBiscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nora digs out her old toybox... and a set of linty Velcro handcuffs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toybox

Curie covers her neck in kisses, licks and nibbles and dots of tongue that shiver cool under the whirring ceiling fan. Stipples her with little nips until Nora yelps and swats Curie’s shoulder.

“Whatcha doing?” Nora asks. Comes out ‘watcha doon,’ her attempt at sexy growl turning to a groan as Curie buries her face in Nora’s cleavage. Bed creaks beneath them, dry spice-and-summer scent of Codsworth’s sachets wafting from the blankets.

“Mapping the sensitivity of your skin,” Curie says, sweet and earnest as a daisy. Fresh and dainty next to Nora’s generous curves and thick waist. All bright-eyed wonder and Nora still doesn’t know what she’s done, what she’d have to do, to earn this woman in her life. Already knows it wasn’t enough, won’t ever be enough, but that’s part of why Curie’s such a gift. An unearned treasure, freely given.

And Curie doesn’t do figures of speech, so Nora asks, “Found anything good?”

“All of you is good. But your breasts, while lovely, do not appear as sensitive as your neck.” A soft pop of breath, kissing Nora’s collarbone.

“D’you-- do you want me to check you out too?” Nora asks, curling her fingers over the back of Curie’s head. Feather-soft edges of hair tickling against Nora’s palm. “I love touching you…”

“You are more attuned with your body than I am with mine,” Curie says, nose crinkling as when a new thought has entered.

Nora waits. Knows Curie will share when she’s ready.

“You have a great number of toys. May I have your permission to use them?” Curie’s so bright and cheerful that Nora’s half-surprised she doesn’t bingle like a software notification.

“Of course. What’s mine is yours and all that jazz.” Nora chuckles, rolls sideways and takes Curie’s wrist. Tiny thing; Nora can circle her wrist with one hand, pluck her between thumb and forefinger. Nora’s a big woman, always feels bigger next to Curie. Already taller, wider than most wastelanders, sure, but Nora feels  _ bigger _ in a good way. Bursting in her skin. “One condition though,” she adds, bopping her finger on Curie’s nose.

Curie goes cross-eyed, giggling. “And what is this condition?”

“You’re using ‘em on yourself and I get to watch. Or… lend a hand,” she adds, waggling her eyebrows for good effect.

Counts success as Curie giggles again, spilling laughter and knee-crawling on top of her. Denim-clad legs straddling Nora’s belly, smooth friction of cloth and her scant weight pressing against Nora as Curie leans over to kiss her forehead with a dry brush of lips. Nora unfastens the buttons on Curie’s shirt, moving down slowly from collar to waist. Tickles her fingers in the gaps of the fabric, brushing smooth over the thin white undershirt. Body-heat leaking, tickling through their skin. Bedframe creaks as Nora rocks on her elbows, pushes herself up and Curie scoots back to adjust. Keeps kissing Curie, through gaps of cloth and skin and elbows knocking as Curie pulls her shirt overhead. Nora reaches behind her, unfastening Curie’s bra with one hand and twirling the strap on one finger before flicking it atop the warm pile of clothing.

“So dextrous,” Curie murmurs, twining her fingers through Nora’s low ponytail. Grips close to the scalp, nails brushing skin. “My fingers are so clumsy next to yours.”

“Call it division of labor. I can take bras off with one hand, you can stitch someone up so they don’t look like Patchwork Sally,” grunts Nora, a muffled ‘mmf’ as she kisses the corner of Curie’s mouth. Smears the kiss into a nuzzle behind Curie’s ear. “Let’s see which skill takes us farther in life.”

“My skills may be socially accepted, but yours may be considered more social,” says Curie, so sweet and innocent that it takes Nora a beat to catch the wicked sparkle in her eye.

When she does, she breaks into guffaws of laughter. “Fuck me, you’re learning! That was a  _ joke _ !”

“I chose this body specifically to learn such things!” Curie protests, squealing as Nora lifts her hips, rolling to tilt Curie sideways and pin her to the bed with a forearm across her chest. 

Nora takes Curie’s wrist, a mock-grab that Curie could break out of with a simple twist-- and Cait had  _ taught _ her that twist, drilled it into her along with a variety of other escapes and blocks as soon as Curie was comfortable enough in her new body that she wasn’t reminding herself to  _ breathe _ every few seconds-- but Curie stays limp, pretending helplessness with a bat of her lashes and wriggling to help Nora work her jeans past her hips. Plain grey underwear, special only because Curie’s the one wearing it. Nora rolls the waistband down, tickles her nose through Curie’s pubic hair and kisses the inside of her thigh as she pulls it past Curie’s knees. Soft skin, always so soft-- because for all Curie’s laments about her body being ‘new’ and unfamiliar, she wears it with a practiced softness. No screws and hinges to oil and maintain, but she rubs her joints with lotion. And even now that Curie’s realized the routine is cosmetic rather than necessary, she still does it because Nora loves kissing her knees and elbows. Loves the supple pliancy of it, the soft shimmer and silver-marked creases of skin.

Kissing, nibbling, dry pecks of lips and wet dots of tongue-- Nora rolls the jeans down as Curie wriggles her toes up, hooking them into her waistband and kicking them off the rest of the way. Toes out of her socks, lets them hit the floor in a puddle of fabric.

“If you want toys, I got-- shit, gotta find the rest of my toys. Dug out my old toybox, haven’t gone through it yet.”

“A learning experience!” Curie exclaims, gloriously naked. Sits up and crosses her ankles, knees bent and loosely angled apart as Nora rummages through the plastic box beneath the bed.

Nora unsnaps the lid with a grunt--sturdy plastic, originally meant for holding tools and equipment. Repurposed because shit, a box with a lid’s a box with a lid. And even though Nora keeps her favorite vibe on the nightstand, she never bothered sorting the rest of it.

Unfortunately, the first item she pulls out is a clear bag of gently-melted pink and purple blobs, with the sad remnants of hard plastic core and a battery pack. When Curie opens the bag and sniffs, the petroleum-smell of artificial raspberry escapes.

“The fuck? Oh  _ ew _ ,” Nora groans, hastily zipping it shut and throwing it into the corner. It hits the wall with a sad thunk before falling over. 

“What was that?”

“Cheap-ass jelly toys. Cheap shit to start with, but guess a couple centuries and radiation weren’t good to ‘em either.” Banishes the chemical horror when she finds a pair of fuzzy pink Velcro handcuffs, linty bits of anonymous white fluff stuck in the tiny hooks. “Hey, I remember this one! One of my exes-- uh, is it okay if I say that?” Creases her forehead, biting her tongue.

Curie smiles, serene and confident. “Of course, my love. I cannot expect I have been the only one to have ever loved you.”

“Okay. One of my exes was really into rope-stuff, but I’m shit with knots. So we got this.” Nora sighs over old memories, picking lint from the barbs. “Think you’d be cute with your hands cuffed to the bed, if you wanna try.”

“And this was part of the set?” Curie asks, picking up a fuzzy eye-mask in the same eye-smarting shade of pink. Black ribbon ties instead of Velcro, but otherwise similar.

Nora nods. “Yeah. If you wanna…?”

“Sensory deprivation could be most rewarding,” Curie says, running the smooth-cut edge of her nail along the ribbon. “It simulates an inversion of my previous hardware, where I had sight but not touch.” A decisive nod. “Yes, I would like this very much. Are there other toys that have not melted?”

“Yeah, the silicone stuff should still be good-- unf. Yeah.” Has to wedge her hand to lift out a flimsy box with a dildo rattling inside. Sparkly and purple, glittering like a naughty unicorn. She’s never been a big fan of penetration for herself, but liked using it on other girlfriends. Curie coos admiringly over the color, and Nora’s cheeks ache with the split of her grin. “What do you think about this one?”

“It is quite pretty. Bigger than your fingers though, if you are certain…?”

“It’s longer, not thicker,” Nora points out, miming two fingers thrusting next to it. “Some of that’s so it has a handle.”

Curie crinkles her nose, wrapping her hand around the toy. Tilts it, lets it glitter in the light. Nods decisively. “I would like to try.”

“And… maybe a buttplug?” Nora asks hopefully. “You’ve got a very cute butt!” Stumbles over her tongue, leaning forward to pet Curie’s knee. “Like, not even anything the size of that dildo. Start out with a couple fingers, lots of lube, a small plug. Maybe something with a vibe.”

“I am willing to try.” Not outright enthusiasm, but a smile at least. Fingers laced and hands clasped in her lap.

Nora exhales, decides not to try unless the response gets considerably warmer. “Alright. Want to start watching you with a vibe though. You tell me what you like, and I’ll take over. Sound good?”

“It sounds very good,” Curie says, leaning back. Head on the pillow, hair fanned like a dark halo. Eyes shimmering and  _ intent _ in a way that would be downright predatory if it weren’t for her enthusiasm.

Nora takes the vibe from the bedside table, drips a dab of lube on it and finger-smears it to coat the tip. Presses it to Curie’s hand, kisses Curie’s wrist for good measure and sits cross-legged at the foot of the bed.

Curie lets her knees fall open, a glimpse of dusky pink peeking through the dark curls. More accident than artistry, Curie biting her lip and scratching her hands through her scalp. Grips her own hair, smiling. “I am used to you touching me.”

“So touch yourself and pretend it’s me,” Nora says, low and throaty. Creaks the bed as she leans forward to pat Curie’s foot.

Curie wriggles her toes, releasing her hair and circling her breast. Broad, light strokes of her fingers, spiralling inward. Pinches the nipple, lets it bud hard and dark before releasing. Skims her nails down the midline of her belly, shivering under the weight of Nora’s gaze. “It feels strange when you just watch. Talk to me?”

“Dirty talk?” asks Nora. Grins wide and wicked at Curie’s nod. “C’mon, dirty girl. Keep touching, don’t stop.” Sits on her hands, a deliberate wriggle of her thighs to make the mattress dip. “Not gonna touch you until you get yourself off.”

“Such a cruel task,” Curie says, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. Licks her lips, mouth wet with promises as she cups her breast.

And fuck, Nora’s favorite vibe is small in her own hand but fits perfectly in the cup of Curie’s palm as she turns it on, touches the buzzing fork to body. Lower belly, not even on the lips yet, but squirming like the vibes are rumbling all through her. Tickles over her flesh, makes her skin hum electric. Nora wants to roll her up, tuck Curie over her tongue and lick her slow and sweet. Taste her, all sweet lemon sunshine and laughter.

“I love how wet you get when you’re turned on,” Nora says, not longer play-acting to keep her voice husky. Lets the hunger seep into it. “Smell like heaven, like warm and wet and body. Way your pussy shines, the way the wet slicks over your curls and makes them stick together.” Nora groans, fingers twitching and trapped beneath her thighs, heavy with the urge to grab. “C’mon, open yourself up. Bet your clit’s nice and swollen, like a sweet little strawberry.”

“You and your prewar foods,” Curie teases, obeying as she does so. Crumples a patch of crinkle-coarse pubic hair, tugging the lip to expose her inner folds. Slow exhibition to it, her toes curling into the blankets. Trembling thighs soft, pale and tender. Exposed in every sense.

“You’re so sweet is why,” murmurs Nora, shifting to watch from a better angle. Less crick in her neck. “You’re glistening, you know.  _ Glisten _ . Like treasure, because you are. Honey-slick and sticky. You know what I want to do to you right now?”

Not even a real question, though Curie’s ears pink with delight. “Pleasure me with your tongue?”

“Yeah. Lick you up and down, circle in and suck on your clit. Wanna slip a finger in you, slide in real slow. Crook it gentle, stroke that spot. Break you down to waves and moans, make you sing.” Grins, cheeks aching and biting the tip of her tongue between her teeth. “Not gonna touch you until you make yourself come first though. C’mon, baby, no need to be shy. Let it buzz through your clit for me.”

Curie rolls her shoulders, slow wriggles into the mattress as she lowers the vibe. Bites her lip, soft gasp of breath hissing through her teeth as she sets it over her clit. Light, gentle-- tiny hops of the vibe, circling close rather than directly touching herself. Nothing near direct, hesitant even as Nora murmurs encouragement.

“You’re beautiful, Curie. So beautiful. Best daydream and dirtiest fantasy all rolled up in one. Body that begs to be worshiped.” Dips her voice low, gives Curie her best wink.  “Even your toes are sexy, you know that? Pink little feet and the way they curl, like you’re trying to grab onto the bed.”

“Toes!” Curie laughs, turning to a squeal as the vibe slips over her clit. “The great poets have lauded a lady’s eyes, hair, face! But toes?”

“They got no imagination!” Nora retorts, easing off her hands and wriggling her fingers. A tingle of recirculation, but no match for the hard throb of her clit. “Fuck, want to touch you so bad. Kiss your belly, pin your legs and set that vibe on high…”

Curie’s knees tense, quick flexion that ripples and disappears. “Oh, but I need to come first, no? Does that mean more torment for you or I?”

“I’m starting to think  _ me _ ,” Nora grumbles, miming grabby-hands at Curie. Big bear-paws, fingers curling into the palm. “You don’t like when it comes too quick?”

“The anticipation is much of the arousal,” Curie admits. “And it is difficult to maintain high levels of self-stimulation.”

“Difficult, or you don’t like it?”

“Oh, I love it when you please me-- but it is difficult for myself.” Crinkles her brow, rolling the vibe onto her clit. Curie’s body rocks, forward and then back as if to escape the vibrations, a wail clenched between her teeth and back arched, hips lifting off the bed--

“Oh  _ baby _ that’s an orgasm,” Nora murmurs, twisting between Curie’s legs and gripping behind Curie’s knee, pushing back so it’s near-level with her ear as she takes the vibe from Curie’s limp fingers. Curie sighs, squeal muffled as she bites her thumb, cheeks flushed and hair sweat-plastered to her scalp. Nora kisses the dimple of Curie’s knee, runs her thumb through the soaked curls of pubic hair and slips into the wetness of Curie’s body. Grins as Curie moans. “C’mon, I like when you make noise. No biting your hands.”

Nora sets the buzzing vibe on the bed, tilts to grab the pink handcuffs. Fumbles at them-- takes both hands to rip the Velcro, wrapping snug around Curie’s wrist and looping the pink connecting strap through the headboard before fitting the other around Curie’s wrist.

Curie wriggles experimentally, clenching and unclenching her fists as she twists her arms. Nibbles her lip.

“Comfy?” asks Nora.

Curie nods. “Surprisingly so.” Another slow pull, bending the elbow and rotating the wrist, fuzzy cuffs smooth over her skin.

“Yeah, don’t want it to be too tight. Just want to keep you from grabbing on,” Nora says, smug and satisfied. Leans forward to kiss the tip of Curie’s nose, pressing her lips to feel the cartilage wriggle. “Lemme know if you want out.” Takes the matching blindfold, lights her lips to each of Curie’s eyelids before settling the mask over Curie’s eyes. Curie obligingly lifts her head from the pillow to let Nora tie the ribbon behind her ears. “How many fingers am I holding up?” Nora asks, holding up two fingers and wriggling her tongue between them with an open-mouthed slobber.

“I do not know, but I know you are making a rude face!”

“How  _ dare _ you accuse me of such things!” Nora adds waggly eyebrows for good measure, even knowing Curie can’t see it. Nibbles Curie’s breast, a scrape of teeth and tongue and settling down between Curie’s thighs. Buzzing vibe a background noise, like the blood-hum in her head as Curie clasps her legs around Nora’s ears. Fuck, but Curie might squeeze her head off-- what a way to go though. So Nora mock-growls, pries Curie’s knees apart with her hands. Licks long and slow, broad lap of her tongue around Curie’s clit before licking the hooded fold. Soft and gentle, working wetness everywhere before using a hard probe of tongue and curling, wrapping her mouth over Curie’s clit and sucking. Lips wet, slippery against Curie’s folds as Curie thrashes. A wild buck of her hips, would throw Nora off if Nora weren’t expecting it, weren’t bracing her shoulders into Curie’s body and leaning in with all her considerable weight.

“Oh, oh,” Curie whimpers, sweet music and rising crescendo. Thighs trembling, body arched like she’s going to break. “Oh, no, no! I can’t!” Breasts and belly shimmering, salt and sweat and excitement. Beautiful. But.

Nora stops. Shrugs Curie’s knees off her shoulder, elbow-crawls over Curie’s body and pushes the blindfold up. “Babe?”

“I-- I thought I could. I don’t think I can come again so soon,” Curie gasps, shuddering. Makes her breasts jiggle, a line of sweat collecting in the dip of her collarbone. “I-- I did not mean stop, but I was so excited, and the words-- the words they fail.”

“I’m still gonna stop if you say ‘no,’ hon,” Nora says, kissing Curie’s eyebrow.

Curie gulps, a little echo of sound caught in her throat. “But I didn’t  _ want _ you to stop.”

“Could use a different words, then. If ‘no’ doesn’t mean no, I still wanna know when to stop.”

Curie knits her brow, biting her lower lip. Same expression Nora gets when figuring math, though whether Curie picked that up from her or ‘inherited’ it with the body, Nora doesn’t know. “‘Adenosine’? It is not a word I am likely to shout when excited.”

“Hell, that’s not a word I’m likely to shout  _ any _ time. But sure.” Nora flicks the vibe off with one hand--background buzz too annoying when she’s not planning on using it right away-- and kisses Curie’s sternum. Settles the blindfold back into place.

Curie wriggles her hips, feet flat on the bed. “Though… if you are still interested, perhaps we can try the anal stimulation? I believe my clitoris may need a short rest.”

“Sure thing, hon.” Enormous grin, tickling the side of Curie’s foot as she sits back and grabs the lube. “You’ve got such a cute butt and I’d love to see you clench around a toy.” Gives a long squirt over her palm, works it on her fingers because fuck if she wants to use ‘just enough.’ Wants to make it squelch, wants nothing but the best for Curie.

She kisses Curie’s thigh, nibbles. Curie’s always sweet with soap, fresh and powdery. Used to think it was a synth thing before realizing it was a Curie thing. Curie and her meticulous hand-washing and attention to personal hygiene. If Nora tried the same thing, she’d just end up with chapped knuckles and dry skin. And Curie smells better than half the people from back when everyone had running water and daily baths  _ weren’t _ a goddamn luxury.

All of which means no, it’s not  _ dirty _ to want to finger Curie’s ass, it’s  _ fun. _ Nora presses slow against Curie’s hole, broad pad of her index finger against the rim. Not even pushing, but gentle pressure until Curie relaxes, knees falling wide and belly soft. Nora keeps nibbling Curie’s thigh, licks a few letters with tiny flicks of her tongue-- ‘Nora,’ branding her lover as best she can. Slips her finger in, a tiny prod past the initial resistance before Curie tightens around her and Nora stops.

“That feels very different,” Curie says. Mask blocks her eyes, presses her hair into sharp angles. Nose crinkled. “Not bad, but different.”

“Okay if I start licking your clit again?” asks Nora. Puffs soft on Curie’s pubic hair after Curie’s nod, licks around the larger folds of the labia and nuzzles the clit with tiny bumps of her lips. Adds a thrust of her finger, rocking back and forth.

Curie hisses, arching herself into Nora’s mouth, against Nora’s hand. “Oh, I like-- I like that very much. Please, do not stop…” Bites her lip, breathing high and ragged.

Nora grins, smothering it into Curie’s body and pressing another finger beside the first. Easier now, Curie already slick and relaxed. Curie squeals as it slides in, lifting her knees so her feet dangle in mid-air. Keeping the licks long and unrushed, Nora curls her fingers, rocks them in to the second knuckle. Lets them rest there, pulsing her hand. Makes sure to suck Curie’s clit nice and hard as she slides her fingers fully in, Curie’s voice rising into a surprised yelp and her body in sweet contractions. Stops again as Curie moans.

Rustle of fabric against the headboard, chafing the wood as Curie struggles with the cuffs.

Nora can’t resist smirking. “Need a hand, hon?”

“You tease me!” huffs Curie. “But that is-- that is very nice, especially when you curl your fingers and keep that pressure.”

“Gonna keep fucking you until you’re a shuddery mess,” Nora laughs, tickling Curie’s skin with her breath. “If you’re ready for it, a plug’s good for pressure.”

And even though Curie nods, Nora’s glad she can’t see the plug. Slips her fingers out of Curie, kisses her clit before picking the steep plug out of the box. Not much bigger than fingers, really, but maybe intimidating. So Nora slicks it up good, adds more lube and it slips against Curie’s skin, falls into the bed before Nora grips it again and presses it to Curie’s ass.

Slides in easier than her first finger did, a soft ‘oh’ as Curie feels the flare, then popping into place. Flared base has a sparkly pink gem set into it, twinkles.

Nora giggles. “Fuck, you’ve got the cutest ass in the world, you know? And you look so good with that toy in you. Almost wanna show you off, except that means sharing.”

“It is very solid,” Curie says. Tenses, butt twitching and glittering the crystal. “I like it.”

“Could wear it under your clothes while you write up your notes…”

Curie laughs. “It seems most unfair to make others an unwitting participant in our sexual activities, should they attempt conversation.”

“Fair enough.” Nora grabs the purple dildo and rests her hand across Curie’s belly, fingers splayed and thumb dipping to Curie’s clit. “Gonna fuck you with the toy now, fill you up nice. Sweet Curie with her holes all stuffed.” Breezes past Curie’s outraged giggle. “World’s cutest turkey dinner, gonna eat you right up.”

“You are absolutely filthy!” Curie chides, moving her arms so the handcuffs saw against the headboard. Smiling though, broad and radiant as the sunrise.

“One of us has to be the dirty one!” Nora drips more lube on the dildo-- doesn’t think she needs it, really, the way Curie’s sweet and slick and puffy, her musk jasmine-heavy in the air-- and presses it against Curie’s entrance.

A tiny push, fucking with only the tip until Curie groans, “Please, stop teasing me!” Changes to a delighted squeal as Nora slides in, angles to hit the spot Curie likes-- keeps working, back and forth. Might get a sore wrist at this point, decides to speed it up. Picks up the vibe with her free hand, flicking it on and setting the tip directly over Curie’s clit.

Curie reacts immediately, body juddering into the bed and setting the springs singing. Jerks her arms, bangs the headboard against the wall and Nora laughs, laughs, laughs. Big belly-laugh, saves the pretty picture for her mental playback. Sets her foot on the bed, angles her knees to keep Curie spread as Curie breaks into a garbled string of French. Excited enough it’d be unintelligible even if Nora understood French.

Nora kisses Curie’s belly, body pressing into Curie’s. Getting lube and slick all over herself, but doesn’t mind. Wants to be touched all over, mark herself up with Curie’s excitement, skin and sweat blurring between them. Breathes into the dip of Curie’s navel, nibbles the soft roll of flesh over the belly as Curie writhes into a screaming mess, glitter dildo thrusting in and out as she trembles, fingers to toes and arching, curling, twitching.

Curie’s voice is hoarse and coming, coming, coming, enormous electric shudders until she gasps, “Adenosine! Adenosine!”

Nora stops, flicks off the vibe and lets it roll off the bed and bounce to the floor. Pulls the dildo out and sets it on the bed, eases up and kisses Curie’s cheek. “How you doing?”

“Good, good. Just-- so much stimulation, it begins to hurt. High intensity coupled with the combined stimulation sets the nerves aflame.” Voice thoughtful and trailing, Curie chewing the inside of one cheek with her absent gaze drifting to the ceiling. “The pleasure transmutes to pain, especially when the clitoris is so sensitive.”

“Yeah, ‘swhy I can’t do multiple orgasms. After my first one, I just wanna roll over and take a nap, maybe eat a sandwich.” Nora wipes her hand on the bed-- fingers too fucking slick-- and eases the blindfold off without untying it. Ribbon already loose from Curie’s squirming. Unsticks the velcro cuffs with an ear-cringing rip and rubs the red pressure-marks on Curie’s wrists. “Want me to take the plug out?” Waits for Curie’s nod before sliding her hand between Curie’s legs, and Curie angles herself towards the ceiling as Nora pulls the plug out with a gentle tug. Metal shining, extra sheen with the lube remnants on it. Nora rotates it, lets it catch the light and glitter.

Curie’s brows vanish in her hairline when she spots the gem on the base. Laughs. “A truly dazzling display!”

“Only the best for the cutest butt I’ve ever seen.” Nora grabs an old shirt, wraps the plug in it. Can always wash up and sanitize everything later. Vibe, plug, dildo-- easy enough, especially if she shoos Codsworth away beforehand. Much as she loves the ‘bot, doesn’t want  _ any _ dude cleaning her toys for her.

“I greatly enjoyed that. The elements of sensory deprivation were also quite exciting, and heightened the stimulation I received.” Curie gnaws her lip, mouth quirking in a smile. “And I had not realized that my rectal sphincter contracted during orgasm. Perhaps I could record our next session, if you are willing…?”

“As long as you clip it somewhere. Don’t want your recorder falling off the bed again.”

“That would be an utter tragedy,” Curie says, so sweetly sincere that Nora takes another look to check if Curie’s teasing her. Jury’s out, though Nora suspects her innocence is a little too practiced to be genuine.

“You’re too good to deserve any kinda tragedy,” Nora says, bumping her nose against Curie’s before pressing their lips together. Light and chaste, some of the waxy residue from Curie’s lip-balm warm against her mouth.

Because fuck, bombs fell, humanity nuked itself, but this isn’t any kind of hell. Not with someone like Curie still around.


End file.
